


Absent Friends

by sothatsagoodthing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x23, Angst, Chuck ships it too, Drinking, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, Fluff, Gossip, Love Confessions, M/M, Mildly Cracky, Mourning Castiel, Sam Ships It, Snarky Crowley, Spoilers up to episode 11x23, Supportive Sam Winchester, The Winchesters' Lives are pretty insane, alpha and omega, basically everyone ships it, mourning Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sothatsagoodthing/pseuds/sothatsagoodthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The former King of Hell raises his glass and clears his throat.<br/>“To the end of the world – or not. We’ll see.”<br/>Castiel steels himself and lifts his own drink up high.<br/>“To Dean.”</p><p>With the world ending, what is left for "Team Beat the Darkness" to do, but toast to absent friends and share stories from the wild ride that has been the Winchesters' lives?<br/>Confessions are made, tears shed and Crowley decides the apocalypse is a lot more fun than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absent Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is me working through (some of) my feels after watching the season finale.  
> Hope you like it!  
> Stay strong in the face of Hellatus, my friends, and as always: comments are love!

Crowley picks a bottle of the most expensive booze in the place and sets it down on the table along with five glasses, which he distributes to God, Castiel, the Winchester and his witch of a mother, finally pouring one for himself. The former King of Hell raises his glass and clears his throat.

“To the end of the world – or not. We’ll see.”

No one looks particularly enthusiastic and Rowena is the only one to follow Crowley’s example. Chuck coughs feebly and reaches for his glass, which Rowena promptly nudges in his direction. The younger Winchester is staring at the drink in his hand, looking like he’s either going to dilute it with salt water or fling it against the wall. The angel sitting beside him doesn’t look any better, but he appears to steel himself and lifts his own drink up high.

“To Dean”, he says in that ridiculously gravelly voice of his. Crowley would never admit to having missed it while Castiel was being Lucifer’s dress-up-doll. But he also can’t help but notice how Castiel sounds a little choked.

Sam instantly responds this time, raising his hand and his glass, but continuing to stare down at the tabletop.  
“To Dean”, he says, huskily.

“Dean”, Chuck concurs, “The best Hunter in the world. Sorry Sam.”

But Sam doesn’t look upset. In fact Crowley thinks he sees something akin to a smile coming from the second best hunter on earth. Rowena shrugs.

“I still barely know the man. But he seemed like a nice enough fellow. To Dean Winchester! He was a good man”, Rowena declares grandly, before downing her drink, sticking out one pinky as if she were holding a teacup.

“The Righteous Man”, Castiel murmurs, though Crowley wonders if he is speaking to himself. 

“And a damn good ex --”, Crowley adds, taking a gulp of his drink, “…bestie.”

He earns a look of annoyance and contempt from Sam and Cas while Chuck and Rowena look on in confusion and amusement respectively.  
The song changes from whatever it was playing before to Bon Jovi, “It’s my Life”. Crowley thinks to himself that “Blaze of Glory” might be more appropriate.

“Bon Jovi rocks, on occasion…” Sam says quietly.

“What was that?” Cas inquires.

Sam smiles, shakes his head. “Nothing. You know – Dean and I have each been dead so many times, but I don’t think either one of us has ever had a real funeral.”

“We’ll lay him to rest him with dignity, Sam”, Cas promises, even though they all know there will be nothing left to bury of Dean. Nothing to even cremate. 

“I’m really sorry, Sam, I realize this is a crappy time, but I gotta ask…”  
It’s Chuck, guilt adding to the pain already twisting up his surprisingly cute little face. Of all the appearances God could have given himself, Crowley wouldn’t have expected this one. But it does have its own kind of charm.

Sam looks up, expectant. Very gingerly, Chuck poses his question: “You – you aren’t going to try and bring him back this time, are you?”

“No”, Sam replies hurriedly, emptying his glass and pouring himself a new one before Crowley can reach for the bottle, “No, I’ve learned my lesson. Besides, Billie promised both of us that the next time we died, we’d stay dead. For good.”

“That must have been hard on you”, Rowena says and almost sounds sincere too. Crowley tops off her drink. Just because he has manners. Not because the end of the world is making him sentimental or anything like that.

“Thank you, Fergus. I’ll take the next one: To the Winchesters! Saving humanity since… what is it?”

“Uh… 2005, I guess?”

“The Winchesters”, Chuck echoes, Castiel following suit.

“Moose and Squirrel!”

All except Sam down their drinks. 

“You know, Cas, you don’t usually toast yourself”, Sam teases gently, if a little shakily.

“But -- I don’t understand”, Castiel says, wearing his trademarked puppy dog look.

“You’re one of us Cas, if you want to be, I mean. I know Dean would agree.”

“Oh”, realization dawns on Castiel’s face. It’s almost cuter than when he _doesn’t_ get something.

“I – thank you, Sam.”

“Well, Moose, that was very Hallmark of you”, Crowley smirks.

Castiel tilts his head to the side. “Why do you refer to Sam as a subspecies of deer?”

Sam barks out a laugh. “For the same reason he used to call Dean “Squirrel”. It’s because he’s an ass.”

“You wound me, Moose. Haven’t I proven my worth to you in our valiant fight against the Darkness?”

“If I recall correctly, your original plan was to use the Darkness for your own gain. Not to mention all the other times you were going to kill us.”  
Sam snorts and shakes his head.  
“All of which were probably still better than the time you tried to steal candy.”

Rowena’s eyes light up like a pile of bones being torched. “That sounds like an interesting story!”

Crowley rapidly intercedes. “Ah, but wouldn’t you much rather hear the story of how our resident giant was attacked and nearly overcome by two clowns armed with glitter?” 

“How do you know about that?” Sam asks, tensely gripping the edge of the table.

Crowley can’t suppress a grin. “Your brother. Besties share such stories with each other.”

Sam’s bitchface activates and Crowley fears for a moment that he has made a mistake in angering the moose. “Okay, so if we’re in a sharing mood. Would you like to hear about Dean getting his ass handed to him by Paris Hilton?”

“I remember writing that”, Chuck exclaims, a grin spreading across his ashen face.

“Anyone care to fill me in?” Rowena asks, but the conversation has already moved on without her.

“Dean told me about that. Wasn’t it on the same case that you were nearly choked by Gandhi, Sam?” Castiel asks earnestly. 

Crowley resolves to spend every coming apocalypse with these people. It’s a whole lot more entertaining than he had expected.

“Well if you aren’t going to bother including me, I might as well share a story of my own”, Rowena sniffs, “Fergus, have you told the Winchesters’ about -- ”

“Oh, remember the Ghostfacers?” Chuck suddenly bursts in, “They were always so much fun to write. Or Cas, remember that time when Dean tried to take you to a brothel?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. “That one’s new.”

“You and Dean did make a handsome couple”, Rowena tells Castiel, eager to voice an opinion. The table immediately goes silent.

“Oh my. Was it supposed to be a secret?” Rowena barely manages to hide her giggle.

Cas is wide-eyed, shrinking into his trench coat and looking back and forth between Chuck and Sam as if he expects one or both of them to yell at him.

“It’s fine, Cas.”  
Sam is smiling at him, a warm, genuine smile. “It’s not as if you two were very subtle about it. I mean, “a more profound bond”? If I’d had my soul at the time I would have figured it out straight away.”

Crowley uses all his willpower to bite back a sassy remark about Sam’s use of the phrase “ _straight_ away” with regards to his brother. He does have standards, after all.

Cas’ eyes start shimmering, but he still stares expectantly at his father, waiting to be scolded.

“I’ve been a crappy Dad, Castiel”, Chuck sighs, “I realize you deserved more. But why did you think I kept bringing you back? I wanted you two to be happy.”

Cas is full-on teary eyed now.  
“From the moment I saw Dean’s soul in hell, saw how bright it was… I always felt there was something special about him”, he rasps out, “He was the reason I discovered free will. The fact that he came to see me as his best friend – few things could make me happier.”

“Wait, he said that?” Sam asks suddenly, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Well, yes… He said I was like a brother to you two.”

Sam shakes his flowing locks in exasperation.  
“Dean, you idiot! I swear to G --”

The hunter stops himself just short of blasphemy with a nervous glance in Chuck’s direction. 

“Cas”, the younger but taller Winchester says earnestly, “You weren’t Dean’s best friend. And he didn’t think of you as a brother either.”

“Of course not, everyone knows I’m his bestie!” Crowley pipes up but Sam shuts him up with a wave of his freakishly large hand and turns back to Castiel who is again looking confused and crumbling.

“Cas, trust me, Dean loved you. And not like a friend, I mean he, you know, _loved_ you.”

“How do you –“

“Because he talks in his sleep”, Sam explains, looking a little uncomfortable and forgetting to use the past tense, “And besides, the whole time you were possessed by Lucifer, he was practically going crazy. He didn’t sleep… I mean, he was really messed up about it. And the way he looked at you after you had that curse lifted from you --”

Rowena hastily busies herself with refilling her glass, but Castiel seems entranced by Sam’s words and completely uninterested in dishing out vengeance.

“My brother was possibly the most repressed human being I have ever met and when I see him in the afterlife I’m probably gonna have to punch him for all the things he never said. But I know him. And believe me, Cas, he felt the same way you do.”

Cas sheds a single, perfect tear that Dean himself would be proud of.

“Well”, Chuck says, misty eyed, “I bless.”

With those words he vanishes. The remainders of “Team Beat the Darkness” look at each other, alternatively confused, hopeful and apprehensive.  
They step outside and squint up at the sun.

“He did it”, Crowley mutters.

“He bloody did it”, Rowena affirms, astonished.

Castiel gazes at the sky.  
“And Dean?”


End file.
